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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24549433">Lost Origins</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/InkInThePen/pseuds/InkInThePen'>InkInThePen</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Different Dragons [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Dragon Age Cut Content, F/F, F/M, Lost Origins, M/M, Minor canon divergence, OC heavy, Sarcastic Elves, Side Project, So here we are, This popped into my head one day and I couldn't have peace until i wrote it, shenanigans and tomfoolery, sometimes these characters make Poor Choices, tragic backstories</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 01:13:46</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,414</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24549433</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/InkInThePen/pseuds/InkInThePen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Amell, Surana, Aeducan, Brosca, Cousland, Tabris, and Mahariel… these are the names of the heroes you know, those with the chance to become the savior of Thedas. But what if fate took a different turn, and the fate of the world fell to others?</p><p>An elven sailor with a complicated past, an Avvar skald laden with the legends of her people, a half-dwarven farmer with a debt to repay, and a Tal-Vashoth mage with a target on her back are all that stand between Ferelden and the scourge of the Blight.</p><p>The world has been in worse hands.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Alistair/Female Warden (Dragon Age), Leliana/Female Warden (Dragon Age), Morrigan/Male Warden (Dragon Age), Zevran Arainai/Male Warden</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Different Dragons [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1774300</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Lost Origins</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Cailan, can’t you see that this is madness?”</p><p>Loghain’s voice grated at his ears. Cailan did not incline to acknowledge his advisors words and continued as he made his rounds about the camp. They had taken some losses, sure, but on the whole his people were still strong and more than ready to fight the foe gathering in the trees.</p><p>“We cannot maintain a position here. We’re dug in too deep,” Loghain, however, was persistent. “If we are overwhelmed here then there will be no recovery. We must pull back.”</p><p>“And if we are overwhelmed, then there is nothing to stop the darkspawn from pushing further into Ferelden. We hold them here, or nowhere,” said Cailan.</p><p>A runner saved him from further lecturing from the old Teyrn. “My king!” He cried, halting in a salute before dropping into a bow.</p><p>Cailen gestured to the runner to stand at ease. “What news, good man?”</p><p>“Duncan, Commander of the Grey Wardens of Ferelden, has returned to the camp along with a company of recruits.”</p><p>Well, that was certainly a positive turn for the day. His excitement was dampened by a visible disturbance with the runner, however. “Is something the matter? Is Duncan well?”</p><p>“Erm, yes sir, the Commander seems hale and hearty in all regards,” said the runner.</p><p>“Out with it soldier, what’s the trouble?” Loghain barked.</p><p>The runner straightened his posture under the gaze of the Hero of River Dane, saluting again almost out of impulse. “Of course, your Lordship! There’s some rumblings among those who spotted them coming… they say he comes with a Qunari, sir. There’s a bit of… well, unease might be the best way to put it.”  </p><p>Cailan’s brows climbed straight into his hairline. “Truly? Well, I’d wager there’s an interesting story behind that,” he said, glancing to his advisor. “Shall we see for ourselves, Loghain?”</p><p>The old soldier shook his head. “I have better things to be doing, as do you, your Highness. If you are insistent then by all means, his Majesty may do as he likes. I will be discussing matters with my lieutenant.”</p><p>“Spoilsport,” Cailan shook his head, as Loghain marched off. He gestured for his honor guard to come along as he followed the runner to where Duncan was arriving.</p><p>He spotted them coming from a ways off, and Cailan couldn’t help but gape. Duncan stood at the head of their company with two of the largest women Cailan had ever seen in his life flanking either side. Thankfully he remembered to pick his jaw off the floor by the time they approached.</p><p>“Ho there, Duncan!” Cailen said, glasping the Warden’s arm in greeting. Duncan seemed well, but there was a heavy tiredness lingering around his eyes. The man had spent much of the last few weeks on the road—no doubt the travel was wearing.</p><p>“King Cailan? I didn’t expect—”</p><p>“A royal welcome?” Cailan chuckled at Duncan’s obvious surprise, moving his hand to the man’s shoulder. “I was beginning to worry you’d miss all the fun!”</p><p>Duncan shook his head, but there was a fondness on his face. “Not if I could help it, your Majesty.”</p><p>“Then I’ll have the mighty Duncan at my side in battle after all. Glorious!” Cailen turned to the odd batch of recruits he’d been politely pretending to not notice before. “I’d heard you found some promising recruits. I take it this is them?”</p><p>“Allow me to introduce you, your Majesty.”</p><p>Cailan shrugged, moving to stand by Duncan so he stood before the recruits directly. “There’s no need to be so formal, Duncan. We’ll be shedding blood together after all. Might I know your names?”</p><p>Somehow, the Qunari was not the oddest part of the assortment. Though it definitely was strange—Cailan had seen Qunari before, but always only men. The woman was half a head taller than he was, skin grey as was common for her race with silver eyes glinting stark against blackness of the “whites” of her eyes, and horns like a crown encircled her head of white hair.</p><p>She smiled at him—Qunari could smile?!—and leaned her weight against the spear in her hand. “Vashli of the Rend Company, your Kinglyness. Majesticality? Gotta admit, I’m a bit unfamiliar with the protocol.”</p><p>Cailan couldn’t help but be taken aback, somehow startled by the lyrical lilt of the horned woman’s voice. Nothing about her was what he expected of a Qunari. “I will say, I like the sound of Majesticality.”</p><p>One of the other recruits, a human man of short stature, snorted a laugh. “Don’t encourage her, your Highness. She’ll never stop otherwise.” Cailan considered the man—he’d been so preoccupied by the pair of unordinary woman he’d almost completely overlooked the two men of the party. “Nicola Ainsley, at your service. No one special, just a farmer from Redcliffe.”</p><p>“Oh, but you are special. Every Grey Warden is needed now, more than ever,” said Cailan. Nicola grimaced, as if he didn’t quite believe it. Ordinary he might claim to be, everything about the stout man spoke of strength. “You’re from Redcliffe? Have you any word of my Uncle Eamon?”</p><p>“Couldn’t exactly say. We weren’t exactly bosom companions.”</p><p>“I can answer that, your Majesty,” Duncan offered. “Your uncle sends his greetings and reminds you that Redcliffe forces could be here in less than a week.”</p><p>Cailan barked out a laugh. “Eamon just wants in on the glory. We’ve won three battles against these monsters, and tomorrow should be no different.”</p><p>“You’re confident of that.” The voice was quiet, so quiet Cailan almost didn’t hear it over the slight breeze. It came from the slight elven man who stood at the back of the party.</p><p>“Overconfident, some might say. Right, Duncan?” Cailan said, casting a wry grin at the old Warden before focusing his attention on the elven man. There was something unusual about his bearing as well—he wore a sailors coat and had his face pierced in various places, with a single thin sword dangling from his belt. “I see you’re an elf friend. From where do you hail?”</p><p>The elven man rolled a shoulder in a sort of half-shrug. “Nowhere specific.”</p><p>“Nowhere specific? So you are a traveler, then. What is your name?”</p><p>“Tick.”</p><p>“Give it up, you’ll not get more than single sentences out of this one,” said the other woman. Avvar, by accent and style of garb. “You’ll have more luck speaking to stones.”</p><p>Cailan blinked, taking in the <em>massive</em> red lioness standing at the equally huge woman’s side. The runner had been worried about the Qunari, but not about that?! His guards shifted their hands to their weapons as they also took in the beast. “That’s… quite the pet, you have there.”</p><p>The giant woman scowled. Impressively, she towered even over the Qunari. “Ragna is no pet, she is a hold-beast. I suggest you regard her as such, lowlander, lest she take offense and bare her claws.” The red lion let out a low growling sound as the woman spoke.</p><p>Duncan shook his head, tiredness creeping back into his expression. “Please, Agnes, show a little respect. Forgive me, your Majesty—”</p><p>“It’s quite alright, Duncan,” Cailan said, waving him off. He took in the build of the woman—she could probably break him with her small finger, if she wanted to. “I’m sorry to cut this short, but I should return to my tent. Loghain waits eagerly to bore me with his strategies.”</p><p>“Your Majesty, I am not certain the Blight can be ended quite as… quickly as you might wish,” Duncan said warily.</p><p>“I’m not even sure this is a true Blight,” Cailan said, shaking his head. “There are plenty of darkspawn on the field, but alas, we’ve seen no sign of an Archdemon.”</p><p>“Disappointed, your Majesty?”</p><p>“I’d hoped for a war like in the tales! A king riding with the fabled Grey Wardens against a tainted god!” Cailan was vaguely aware of a scoff from the elf, but he ignored it. “But, I suppose this will have to do. Now, I must go before Loghain sends out a search party. Farewell, Grey Wardens!”</p><p>Duncan and the human man gave salutes, which the Qunari woman clumsily tried to copy, while the other two stood by impassively.</p><p>Cailan hoped he’d have a chance to pull Duncan aside before the battle—he wanted to hear how the Commander had gotten himself this eclectic mix of recruits. That was no doubt a story worth sharing.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>So this is just a little side project I'm working on when I don't feel like touching my main fic, Genesis of a Dragon (or whichever one of the works from the Dragon Chronicles I happen to be working on at the moment if you're reading this in the future). </p><p>I have no excuse for this other than I was reading through the DA wiki about the cut content about origins that were meant to be in the game but never made it to the final version. Suddenly my brain had come up with characters, backgrounds, personalities, etc for these cut settings. I got a little carried away and dreamed up two more possible origins. </p><p>For better or worse, here we are. Updates might not be as frequent as on my main series, but we'll see. These characters were rattling around in my brain the last couple days and I couldn't focus on my main project until I got them out into the world. </p><p>In the absence of the standard Wardens, it's up to Agnes, Nicola, Vashli, and Tick to save the day. Also Ragna.</p><p>Leave Kudos if you liked it. Comment to right all the wrongs of the universe, ever.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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